Rouge et Blanc
by ehhhhhhhh
Summary: so far season 2 has been unable to satisfy my need for kanetsuki, and i've read every good fluff fic of them already, so i must take action. it is my duty. my destiny. starts out kinda sad but it will be very fluffy in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1: Rouge et Blanc

Somewhere between the bouquets and bloody clashes with ghouls, Tsukiyama Shuu fell in love with Kaneki Ken.

Love caused him to look at Kaneki with a heightened focus. Tsukiyama observed every detail of Kaneki with clarity: the gentle curves of his cheek and jaw, the dull blackness of his nails, the way he'd touch his face when he was hiding something. He never saw Kaneki cry.

Kaneki's smell changed, too. Its layered tones, once pure and harmonious, now carried an underlying dissonance, a sadness that reminded Tsukiyama of rain. A delicious smell. Tsukiyama despised himself for thinking so, despised himself because a small part of him still wanted to eat Kaneki. This desire throbbed weakly but definitely under the new emotions that bloomed within him.

Kaneki filled every empty space inside his heart. Thoughts of Kaneki occupied his hours and his days. Kaneki was simply a necessity.

And this was the part that really broke Tsukiyama's heart. He needed Kaneki; the reverse was not true. He was a sword for Kaneki, a useful tool and nothing more. No one falls in love with a weapon.

* * *

"Hinami-chan! May I speak with you in the kitchen for a moment, please?"

Hinami put down her book and stepped into the kitchen with Tsukiyama. Kaneki, Banjou, and the gas mask trio were in the living room playing cards.

"Mademoiselle, I have something to confess, and something to request."

"What is it, Tsukiyama-san?"

Tsukiyama's voice dropped to a whisper. "I…really like Kaneki-kun." Hinami nodded knowingly. "But I know he doesn't trust me…so I was wondering if you could help."

Hinami thought for a moment. "Since you're so good at cooking, you should cook for Onii-chan and then tell him how you feel! He told me once that his favorite food was his mom's hamburgers."

"Merci, little lady. That is a good plan."

Hinami winked cutely. And so they became co-conspirators. Tsukiyama was relieved he had her as an ally.

* * *

The following evening, Banjou and the trio accompanied Hinami to the bookstore, leaving Tsukiyama with Kaneki. Kaneki seemed neither excited nor unhappy when Tsukiyama told him he had planned a surprise meal. Tsukiyama, after skimming through some hamburger recipes online, tried his best to replicate them with human meat. He also opened a bottle of fine blood wine from his parent's cellar and poured two glasses.

When Tsukiyama set a plate of the dish in front of Kaneki, the latter's expression darkened.

"Tsukiyama-san. What is this."

"I tried to make hamburgers, mon cher. Hinami-chan told me they were your favorite. Is there something wrong?"

Kaneki looked up from the plate. His piercing gray eyes stared straight into Tsukiyama's.

"What are you trying to do?"

The question confused Tsukiyama.

"I…I wanted to cook something you'd enjoy, Kaneki-kun. Because, the truth is…" Tsukiyama wasn't sure if he should continue with the confession. This was already going not as planned, and horribly so. Why was Kaneki so angry?

"The truth is you want to eat me."

"No! Well, yes, but that's not—"

"You're being nice to me to gain back my trust. That's it, isn't it? And you're using Hinami, too. She truly likes you, but you're just using her."

Tsukiyama wanted to deny it, but none of it was false per se.

Kaneki stood up from the table and roughly pushed his chair in.

"I'm going to bed. You should probably leave, Tsukiyama-san."

No, no, no. This was not happening. This couldn't have gone worse. Tsukiyama decided there was only one thing left to do.

"The truth is, I'm in love with you, Kaneki-kun."

Kaneki froze but didn't say anything, so Tsukiyama kept talking.

"I'm enamored with you. Infatuated. And while it's also true that I still feel some desire to eat you, I don't want to hurt you." Tsukiyama reached across the table to grab Kaneki's hand. "Give me a second chance."

Kaneki didn't meet Tsukiyama's eyes.

"You know, when you first walked through Anteiku's door, I thought you looked like a model. You were so tall and…handsome. And then when you visited me at Kamii, you were so charming, I thought the others must be wrong about you. I thought you were really, genuinely, a kind person."

Tsukiyama's eyes started to sting.

"And then you tried to eat me."

"Kameki-kun, I am so, so—"

"I should hate you, shouldn't I? That's the worst part. I can't hate you. Sometimes, when I'm with you, I feel…almost happy."

Almost happy?

Kaneki slowly pulled his hand away from Tsukiyama's. Dimly the latter noticed a red stain spreading on the white table cloth. He must have knocked over a wine glass when he reached desperately across the table. A few drops had splashed onto the sleeve of his lilac shirt. That morning he had debated endlessly about what to wear, but it seemed so pointless now. Above them, the ceiling light hummed quietly.

Tsukiyama opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind. There was an air of finality in the room, like all there was to say had already been spoken. He started to pick up the plates to clear the table. Kaneki stopped him.

"I'll take care of it. I'm sorry you went to all the trouble to cook for me."

Tsukiyama could only nod.

* * *

Tsukiyama returned to his parent's manor. He shooed away his servants, who tried to ask him what was wrong. He turned off his cell phone as well, buzzing with messages from Hinami.

As he returned his phone to his pocket, his finger brushed against plastic. He pulled out the bag containing the stained handkerchief from his first "date" with Kaneki. He opened the bag and the tantalizing aroma of Kaneki wafted up to his nose, teasing him. Sick. Tsukiyama was sick. It was really no surprise that Kaneki had rejected him. No surprise at all.

Tsukiyama removed the handkerchief, walked to the trash can, and let it fall. He was reminded of the tablecloth, pure white cloth stained irrevocably with red.


	2. Chapter 2: Bonne Nuit

Two weeks after the disastrous dinner, a slight awkwardness had settled between Tsukiyama and Kaneki. Sometimes Tsukiyama would catch Kaneki watching him, his head tilted to one side. It would be adorable if Kaneki's gaze weren't so serious.

Hinami had quietly apologized to Tsukiyama, feeling guilty for suggesting the dinner. But Tsukiyama assured her it was not her fault.

"Mademoiselle, the real mistake was made by me, at another time, at another dinner," he told her.

* * *

The living room of the apartment was nothing to write home about. The furniture was functional and sturdy, but lacked style. As Tsukiyama sat on the couch and opened his book, he imagined upholstering the cushions in velvet, of a wine red color, perhaps. Tsukiyama was fond of the way velvet felt smooth when brushed one way and rough and stubbly going the other.

He soon became engrossed in his book, so he didn't look up until he felt a weight on the other side of the couch. Glancing over, his heart skipped a beat. Kaneki was sitting there, opening a book of his own. In the lamplight a few stray hairs on his head glowed like lightbulb filaments, dangerous to the touch without their glass covers.

"Do you mind if I sit here and read with you, Tsukiyama-san?" Kaneki asked in a neutral tone.

"Of course not, Kaneki-kun."

Tsukiyama continued gazing at Kaneki as the latter drew his legs up and propped the book on his knees.

"What are you reading, Tsukiyama-san?"

"It's a short story collection called 'I Wonder What Human Flesh Tastes Like?'"

Kaneki snorted. "But you already know the answer to that question."

Tsukiyama chuckled nervously. "Nevertheless, mon cher, it has a lovely style. The gruesome events described seem almost like dreams. The reader has to wonder if they really happened.

"And you? What are you reading?"

"It's called 'Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage'", Kaneki answered.

"Oh? I haven't read it."

"It's about a guy who is outcast from his group of friends. Many years later he decides to find out why.

"There's also a character nicknamed Kuro, who lives a happy life, and a character named Shiro, who is the victim of some tragic things and eventually loses her sanity…"

He ran a hand through his hair, once black, now white.

Tsukiyama could only nod. He longed to keep the conversation going between them, because when they were talking about books it felt like they were just friends, that their gruesome history was only a dream.

But they both turned back to their books and kept reading in silence.

* * *

Some hours later, Tsukiyama finished his book and closed it gently. The dimness of the evening had deepened to nighttime while they read. Kaneki, however, had fallen asleep at some point. His eyelashes fluttered restlessly, casting twitching shadows across his cheekbones.

Tsukiyama stood up and stepped to the other side of the couch. Carefully he slid an arm under Kaneki's knees and another around his shoulders. Then he lifted the slumbering body and carried him down the hall to Kaneki's bedroom. As Kaneki's head lolled against Tsukiyama's arm, he decided there was no other feeling quite like the warmth of someone precious, of knowing a heart was beating right next to you.

Tsukiyama nudged the bedroom door open with his foot. The only lights were the glaring red numbers of an alarm clock and a few stray threads of moonlight slipping through the blinds. Permeating the air was the unmistakable bittersweet smell of Kaneki.

Gently, gently, Tsukiyama laid Kaneki on the bed. As he removed his arms, Kaneki stirred and his eyes blearily opened.

"Tsukiyama?"

The name on his lips was softer than moonlight.

"Bonne nuit, mon cher."

As Tsukiyama turned to leave, he could still feel the weight and warmth of Kaneki's body on his arms.


	3. Chapter 3: Doux Rêves

"Tsukiyama. Wait."

Tsukiyama stopped outside Kaneki's door. The voice was surprisingly soft and uncharacteristically vulnerable. He turned back to see Kaneki sitting up in bed.

"What is it, mon cher?"

Kaneki rubbed his eyes.

"I…want to talk to you."

Tsukiyama's heart leapt but his stomach twinged nervously. He returned to the side of Kaneki's bed. Kaneki gestured for him to sit.

"What did you want to talk about?" Tsukiyama asked, trying to sound casual.

Abruptly Kaneki stuck out his hand.

"Eat."

Eat? Did Kaneki say eat? Tsukiyama stared at the hand, then at Kaneki's face, then back to the hand. Kaneki's eyes glinted like iron.

"What are you waiting for?" he insisted. "Dig in."

"Kaneki-kun, I don't under—"

"It'll grow back. Eat."

"I'm not—"

"Eat!"

"I can't—"

"Isn't this what you want?"

"No!" he practically yelled. "I don't want to hurt you!"

He clasped Kaneki's hand in his own and lowered it.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered. Kaneki withdrew his hand.

The light across the hall flicked on. Tsukiyama realized he must have nearly shouted. A few moments later, Hinami appeared in the doorway.

"Is everything okay?" she asked cautiously.

Tsukiyama stood up and met her at the doorway.

"Oui, mademoiselle. There's nothing to worry about. Sorry for waking you," he apologized.

Hinami looked past Tsukiyama to Kaneki and back at Tsukiyama. She still looked concerned.

Tsukiyama laid a hand gently on her hair.

"Would you like me to tuck you back into bed?" he offered.

She gave Kaneki one last look and nodded.

Back in her room, Hinami climbed into bed, and Tsukiyama drew the covers over her.

"Is everything really okay?" she whispered.

"Yes, little lady. Everything is fine. Kaneki and I were just talking and I got too excited."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Doux rêves, mon cher."

Hinami closed her eyes. Tsukiyama turned out the light.

Tsukiyama returned to Kaneki's room. Kaneki was studying Tsukiyama in the same peculiar way as before.

"Usually I'm good at figuring people out," he said. "But I don't get you."

Tsukiyama tried to smile.

"There's not much to get," he replied. "I'm in love with you."

Kaneki turned his head away.

"I don't expect you to feel the same way about me," Tsukiyama continued, "but it would mean the world to me if you would trust me." He subconsciously touched his hand to his chest. His heart ached in a way that was strangely familiar.

Kaneki sighed.

"You know, when I first became a ghoul, I couldn't handle my hunger very well," he began. "At one point, I…almost ate my best friend."

The guilt on Kaneki's face was painfully clear.

"Mon cher, that wasn't your fault. Living your life as a human…then suddenly turned into a ghoul…it's no wonder you couldn't restrain yourself."

"But that's the kind of world we live in, isn't it? Everybody has to eat."

"Très vrai."

"Well, my point is, I guess I shouldn't take it too personally that you tried to eat me."

"Twice," Tsukiyama corrected him. "Once, maybe, but twice is a little personal, I must admit."

Kaneki laughed at that, a laugh that was like new buds opening in springtime.

"I'd like for us to be friends," he said softly.

Tsukiyama smiled widely. He couldn't help himself.

"Merci, Kaneki. It's such a relief to hear that."

The sat in the darkness a few minutes more. No longer was there an awkwardness hanging in the air between them.

"I'll let you sleep then," said Tsukiyama, standing up to leave.

Kaneki glanced at the clock. The red numbers glowed harshly in the darkness. One o'clock.

"It's so late. If you don't mind the couch, you're welcome to sleep here for the night."

"Oh? You're getting attached to me quickly," Tsukiyama teased.

"And I'm already regretting the offer."

Kaneki got up and found a spare pillow and blankets for Tsukiyama. Tsukiyama took them gratefully.

"Good night, then," said Kaneki.

"Doux rêves, mon cher," Tsukiyama replied.

Kaneki's brow furrowed.

"What does that mean?"

"Ah, it means 'sweet dreams, my dear.'"

"Oh. Well, 'doux rêves' to you, too."

Suddenly Kaneki leaned in and kissed Tsukiyama on the cheek. He then returned to his room without another word. Tsukiyama, stunned, could only watch. Absentmindedly he reached up and touched the spot where Kaneki had kissed him. It was stinging, but the sensation was oddly pleasant. He would certainly have sweet dreams that night.


End file.
